My Fathers World

Sunk comfortably aloof in his mauve reading chair Dad's evening reverie; pipe, cheese, crackers and book His world vanished in smoke swirling into the air For his family; an occasional vacant look Yet he'd take time to spin me a bedtime story Of enchanted lands and daring schemes Flights of fancy depicting heroic glory Betraying his real life's unmet dreams My dad's inner home, the one he preferred Was far from our world's cruel, petty strife His family and solace was the written word Though he was good to his kids and true to his wife This world was too much with him somehow A scathingly mean-spirited bother But I just remember his soft kindness now Blessed to have had such a father